


Run a Reel

by bexacaust



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-09
Updated: 2017-02-09
Packaged: 2018-09-23 03:59:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9639887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bexacaust/pseuds/bexacaust
Summary: Home you’ll go and it’s there you’ll stayAnd you’ve work to do in the morningGive up your dream of going awayForget your sailors in Galway





	

Once a lunar cycle, the scientists went on shore leave.

Once a cycle, Perceptor saw him at the bar he and his closest coworkers frequented.

He often drank with a rowdy crowd around him, laughing with fangs a-gleaming with mechs that could easily be tankers or haulers. His plating was scratched and patched and polished to a mirror sheen whenever Perceptor saw him- whenever he’d glance away as the wandering labormech caught his optics staring.

Whenever they winked.

Brainstorm nudged Perceptor’s arm, “Go for it, mech.”

“Wh-What?”

Ironfist cackled, “You’ve been eyeing him like a stiff drink every time we see him. If you don’t make a move he miiiight~”

“P-Preposterous.”, sputtered Perceptor, suddenly infatuated with his empty glass, “He’s obviously quite busy, no time for a few student graduates-”

“Oh, but I bet he’d make some time for you.”, teased Brainstorm.

Perceptor gave him a deadpan look, not noticing Ironfist’s optics go wide. He didn’t notice the grinning figure beside him until he heard the soft sound of a glass tap the tabletop, the liquid within shimmering.

Clink.

Perceptor turned to thank who he thought was a waiter, only to have his voice catch in his intake. The mech he’d been wistfully eyeing from his shy corner stood, in the plating, with that debonair smile.

“Have a drink on me, sweetspark.”

“Th-th-thank y-you.”

He pulled a chair for himself, dropping into it as Perceptor squeezed his own servos into loose fists to hide their tremble. He swallowed hard as the mech he’d been, well, ogling… chuckled.

“Name’s Deadlock.”

“P-Perceptor.”, offered the nervous scientist, hearing the skid and scrape of Brainstorm and Ironfist abandoning him to his own social awkwardness. He felt his faceplates heat and averted his gaze from Deadlock, wondering how his plating hadn’t started to rattle uncontrollably.

“Perceptor… scientist, right? Kimia.”

“A-ah. Yes, I am a supervisor with R&D. And the only lifeline some of my colleagues have when they create outlandish things for no reason.”

Deadlock snorted as he laughed, and Perceptor resisted the goofy smile that threatened to appear on his faceplates.

The bar was loud, the strains of music humming through the air as groups and couples laughed and clapped and danced around them. Perceptor glanced around, seeing Brainstorm pull Quark out of his seat and twirl him as he yelped and cackled.

“Hey.”

Perceptor turned back to see Deadlock’s grin had gone sly. The mech offered his hand, the hint of claws glinting in a way that made a shiver race down Perceptor’s backstrut.

“Let’s run a reel, hm?”

“I-I, uhm, I w-”

“Please, sweetspark?”, he purred, rendering Perceptor speechless, “Won’t lie to ya, wouldn’t mind having my hands on that frame for a li’l while.”

Perceptor swore his processor shorted out. His optics flickered slowly like a half-concussed blink as he softly, weakly said, “I can agree to that.”

As though in a dream, his hand took Deadlock’s in a shy grip and the fanged grin was back. Deadlock stood, pulling Perceptor up with him and the scientist seemed to float wherever he was led.

Ironfist cheered with a few other Kimians as Perceptor’s faceplates split in a doped smile, and Deadlock pulled him close.

“Just follow my lead, darlin’.”, was purred into Perceptor’s audial and he had to physically stop his knees from giving way. With Deadlock’s surprisingly gentle touch guiding him, the music seemed to fade away and all Perceptor could hear was the hum of their systems falling in sync, the thrum of their fields meshing together and the soft whirr of fans kicking into working.

They moved together, and Perceptor couldn’t help the soft gasps he gave whenever he felt the slide of claws just barely grazing his paint. He noticed as the crowd seemed to thin, noticed that Deadlock was leading him away to a shadier corner and his spark whirled just a little faster and faster-

His back lightly bumped the wall, and he felt Deadlock’s thigh slip between his own teal ones and his fans kicked up another notch.

And then he was being kissed; kissed like they would die tomorrow, laced with the taste of highgrade and broken regulations and he whimpered softly as his servos scrambled for a hold on Deadlock’s plating.

Deadlock pulled away enough to whisper, “Still with me here, Percy?”

“M-My optics and processor are clear as crystal- please kiss me again.”

“Can do, sweetspark.”

Perceptor’s systems whined softly when he was kissed again, lazy and slow and burning like hell’s own embers. His processor faded away from him, it seemed, and he rolled his hips against Deadlock’s thigh and shuddered.

Deadlock moved to nip at neck cabling, making the glow of Perceptor’s optics flicker as he squirmed hungrily already.

“Spend yer leave with me, darlin’.”, purred the dark mech, “Whaddya say?”

_“Please.”_ , gasped Perceptor, feeling claws pluck gently at the cables within his hipjoints, “Oh _please.”_

A low laugh, and Perceptor grinned almost wickedly as Deadlock moved away, tugging at the scientist’s hand to lead him further into sin for the night.


End file.
